Breakfast Club Whittemore
by SaidTheWhale
Summary: "Claire? That's a fat girl's name." Season 1 Full Summary Inside
1. 0

Claire Jameson was that quiet girl who sat in the back of class. That girl who kept to herself and would be seen with the same two people. That girl who you could only vaguely remember attending your high school. That girl who you would have to think about a bit before responding "Oh yeah, her" when someone asked you about her.

No one would even think that a boy would be crushing on her, let alone two.

But that all changes during her sophomore year. One of her best (and only) friends, Scott McCall, suddenly turns his attention the new girl instead of his best friend that he's been crushing on for nearly a year, leaving one boy remaining.

If people wouldn't think that a boy would have a crush on her, no one wouldn't believe that that boy is the most popular guy in school

im writing this because of my total love for jackass whittemore even though he's a total douche.

ps i'm changing the plot a bit so that jackson and lydia aren't dating. they dated in eighth grade but broke up, and now they're like best friends (bc middle school relationships mean basically nothing in the long run)

taissa farmiga is faceclaim


	2. half

Claire sat on her bed, squinting her eyes at her two best (and only) friends.

"Why would I ever agree to this?" she asked.

"Because it'll be fun," Stiles responded.

"Finding a dead body is fun?"

"Yes, now let's go."

Sighing, Claire got up and followed Stiles and Scott out of her room. Even though she really didn't want to go looking for a dead body the night before school starts up again, she went with them. Claire would do just about anything for those two idiots, and they knew it too.

"One of you will have to buy me something if I'm really doing this," Claire announced.

"I'll get you a hot chocolate," Scott offered.

She smiled at him. "Perfect. Now let's go."

As she walked away, she was oblivious to Scott's fluttering heart and goofy smile.

"I don't like this," Claire muttered as she walked through the woods with Scott and Stiles.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Scott remarked, his comment louder than Claire's.

"Hey, you're the one that's always bitching about how nothing ever happens in this town," Stiles defended.

"And someone dying is a good way to fix that?" Claire questioned, getting no answer. Beacon Hills was pretty quiet, but she didn't want someone's death to be her source of entertainment.

"I wanted to get a good night of sleep before practice tomorrow," Scott sighed.

"Right, 'cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort," Stiles scoffed. Basically everyone who knew the two boys at Beacon Hills High (Which wasn't a lot) knew that they had almost no chance of ever playing a game. They both sucked at lacrosse. They sucked a lot.

"No, because I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making first line," Scott stated determinedly.

"Hey, that's the spirit!" Claire cheered.

"Yeah, everyone should have dreams," the Stilinski nodded. "Even pathetically unrealistic ones."

"Hey, he could make it," Claire defended her best friend. Hearing her have faith in him made Scott's heart skip a beat, a bit of butterflies erupting in his stomach. She had been making it do that a lot lately. Ever since the beginning of their freshman year, he had been falling more and more for Claire with every passing day. "You could too, Stiles. The two of you practiced a bunch over break. I wouldn't be surprised if the two of you went out there and kicked Jackson's ass."

With that remark, all of those butterflies left Scott's system. Of course. He was Claire's friend, just like Stiles was. She cared about the two of them equally, like the two of them as friends.

Scott was Claire's friend, and nothing more.

But he didn't stay sour. Well, he was already a bit sour to begin with, considering Stiles made him go out into the middle of the woods at night, but he didn't stay sour about Claire. He couldn't be mad that she didn't like him the same way he liked her, no matter how much he wanted to be mad. He could never be mad at her.

Stiles scoffed, giving her a look. "Alright," Claire said, "I wouldn't be as surprised as I would be if you guys kicked his ass last year."

"Better," Stiles nodded.

"Uh, just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?" Scott asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Stiles looked curious as well. "Huh, I didn't actually think about that."

Claire was met with a sudden realization. "And what if whoever killed the girl is still out there?"

Stiles' eyes widened, his face an amusing mixture of curiosity and fear. "Uh, yeah, didn't really think about that either."

"It's - comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail," Scott wheezed out, his asthma effecting him as the three climbed up a small hill. He pulled his inhaler out of his pocket and shook it. "Maybe the severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?"

"Are you okay Scott?" Claire asked, concerned. She didn't want her best friend to have a full-on asthma attack.

He nodded. "I'm good," he nodded, still wheezing. He put his inhaler to his lips and pushed it, taking a big breath.

The trio stopped suddenly, the sound of sirens and police dogs traveling to their ears. The police was here. And with the police came the sheriff, who just so happens to be Stiles's dad.

Filled with determination, Stiles turned to his best friends. "Let's go." Grabbing Claire's hand, he maneuvered around the trees.

But, sadly, the two were still caught.

"Hold on," the sheriff's voice boomed, causing the two teenagers to cringe a bit. Great. Not only were they caught, but Stiles' dad was there, too. "Those little delinquents are mine."

"Uh, hey Dad," Stiles waved.

"How are you this evening, Mr. Stilinski?" Claire asked, slightly nervous but refusing to show it.

The sheriff looked between the two of them and sighed. "Stiles, do you listen in on all of my calls?"

"No," he shook his head. "Not the boring ones."

"Where is your usual partner in crime?"

"Uh..." Stiles trailed off. "Claire's right here," he said, gesturing to her.

"Hello," she smiled with a small wave.

Mr. Stilinski gave his son a look. "You know who I mean."

"Oh, you mean Scott?" Stiles asked sounding a bit nervous.

That was when Claire butted in. She knew how much Stiles sucked at lying, and if she let him take the lead, she would seriously regret it. "Scott's at home. He wanted to get a good night of sleep before lacrosse tomorrow. It's just the two of us." Stiles nodded furiously and pointed at her, his way of agreeing.

The sheriff squinted his eyes before turning the way the two teenagers came, shining his flashlight. "Scott! You out there?"

Claire was a bit nervous, looking out into the trees as well, but luckily Scott knew that he needed to hide. When the sheriff couldn't find him, he turned back to his son and the girl he considered his daughter. "Well, I'm going to walk the two of you to the car," he said. He turned to Stiles. "And the two of us can have a little talk about privacy."

As they walked away, Claire couldn't help but look back, hoping that Scott would be okay on his own. Who knows what could happen in a forest at night.


	3. 1

1- First Day

"I'm telling you, this year is my year," Scott stated as he quickly ran a brush through his hair. He was getting ready for school with Stiles on speaker phone. He had just finished explaining that he got bit by something in the woods after he and Claire got busted.

"Okay," Stiles spoke, his voice sounding a bit robotic, "so you're saying that this is not only the year that you make first line, but is also when you tell Claire that you've got a massive crush on her?"

"Okay, when you say it it sounds impossible," Scott whined.

"It's not impossible. Not likely, and one of those things is most definitely not going to happen, but not impossible."

"What are you saying? Should I tell her or not?"

Stiles sighed. "I don't know, man. I mean, if you tell her and she likes you too, than that great. But if you tell her and she doesn't-"

"It all goes downhill," Scott finished.

"I mean, we've been friends with her since kindergarten, dude," he stated. "And we're her only friends. If you tell her and she doesn't like you like that, or you date and break up, things will just get awkward. And we know that she really sucks at trying to talk to new people, so she'll just be stuck with being awkward around her best friend for a long time."

Scott sighed heavily. He wanted to tell Claire how he felt. Her wanted to at least know what she thought about him. He wanted to see if they could become a couple. But if she didn't like him, he didn't want her to be uncomfortable around him because she knew.

"So I shouldn't tell her?" Scott asked after a moment of silence.

Stiles sighed through the phone. "I don't know. It's really up to you. I got to get ready for school, man. See you soon. And show me your bite!"

After Stiles hung up and Scott started biking his way to school, he made his decision. He wouldn't tell Claire.

At least not right away.

Claire was standing in front of the school with Stiles, her arms crossed and her eyebrows raised. "So, after we left, Scott was bit?"

Stiles had decided to tell her his conversation with Scott that morning, minus the stuff about her. "Yup," he nodded.

"By what? Bigfoot?"

Before he could respond, Scott himself walked up to the two. Stiles rubbed his hands together. "Alright, let's see this thing."

Scott complied, pulling up his shirt to reveal a large bandage on his torso. Claire cringed while Stiles looked thrilled to see it, reaching out a hand to touch it only for it to be smacked away.

Scott pulled down his shirt. "It was too dark to see much, but I'm pretty sure it was a wolf."

"A wolf bit you?" Claire asked, eyebrows furrowed. She knew there were no wolves in California.

"Uh-huh," Scott agreed.

"Nope," Stiles shook his head. "Not a chance."

"I heard a wolf howling," he defended.

"No you didn't," he told him.

"Okay, what do you mean no I didn't?" Scott asked. "How do you know what I heard?"

"It's because there are no wolves in California," Claire explained. "Not in the last, like, sixty years or something."

"Really?" Scott questioned, dumfounded. He was positive that he heard a wolf.

"Yes really," Stiles nodded. "California doesn't have wolves."

"Alright, well if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you definitely won't believe me about when I tell you that I found the body," he stated, a bit too happily.

Stiles instantly looked giddy. Way too giddy than someone should be about a dead body. "Wha- are you kidding me?"

"I wish," Scott responded. "I'm gonna have nightmares for a month."

"That is awful," Claire muttered, cringing slightly.

"That is amazing," Stiles responded. "That is freakin' awesome. I mean, this is seriously gonna be the best thing that's happened to this town since-" he cut himself off, looking at something behind Claire's shoulder. "Since the birth of Lydia Martin," he stated as said girl walked in their direction. "Hey Lydia, you look-" Lydia walked right past him, looking as if she didn't hear a word he was saying. "Like you're gonna ignore me," he frowned.

The three teens walked towards the school's entrance, Scott and Claire laughing silently at Stiles. "You two are the cause of this, you know."

"Yeah?" Claire asked sarcastically, still laughing a bit.

"Dragging me down to your guys' nerd depths. I'm a nerd by association. I've been scarlet- nerded by you."

Claire rolled her eyes. She could tell that Stiles was just joking. He was the biggest nerd ever.

"You are such an idiot, Stilinski," she responded.

"Shut up, Jameson."

"As you all know, there indeed was a body found in the woods last night," the teacher started talking. Claire, Scott, and Stiles were all sitting in first period English, which they luckily had together. The three teens locked eyes, knowing a bit more about the body than anyone else in the classroom. Stiles wiggled his eyebrows a bit, causing Claire to roll her eyes at him. "And I am sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened. But I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody, which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus which is on your desk outlining this semester." The class let out a collective groan.

As they were doing their work, Claire noticed that Scott was acting really strange. He seemed to jump at random times at look around the room, as if he were hearing things no one else could. When he looked in her direction, he saw her slightly worried and confused expression, reflecting his own worry and confusion. 'You okay?' she mouthed at him, to which he replied with a nod.

Moments later, the door opened, revealing the vice principal with a girl Claire didn't recognize. She was very pretty, with brown eyes and brown curls. "Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent," the vice principal announced. "Please do your best to make her feel welcome."

After that announcement, she walked shyly to the empty desk behind Scott. Claire looked over and saw that Scott looked slightly awestruck by the new girl. Once she sat down, he turned around and handed her a pen, a small smile on his face. Allison looked momentarily confused, but quickly got over it. She smiled shyly and thankfully as she took the pen from his hand. "Thanks," she whispered.

Claire looked back up at the board, smiling slightly after watching the exchanged. Looks like Scotty's got a crush, she thought to herself.

After school, Claire and Stiles stood by their lockers, which were luckily right next to each other, putting their stuff away. Scott stood next to the two, watching as the new girl Allison talked to Lydia and Jackson, the two most popular sophomores in school.

"Okay," a girl Claire thought was named Mary spoke, "can someone tell me how new girl is here all of five minutes and she's already hanging out with the popular clique?"

"Because she's hot," Claire shrugged. "Beautiful people heard together."

Mary frowned, looking like she didn't except that answer, but walked away anyways.

Once Stiles and Claire were done with their lockers, the three began walking to the lacrosse field. "So, this is the year you're on first line, right Scotty?"

Scott nodded, looking equal parts excited and nervous. "Yes." He seemed hesitant. "I mean, I can do it, right?"

"I don't know," Stiles shrugged. "Probably not."

"Wow, you're such a good confidence booster, Stiles," Claire rolled her eyes.

He shrugged again. "I try."

They walked onto the field, heading over near the bleachers. "Well, good luck guys." She patted the two on the back before walking over to the bleachers and finding a spot. The seats weren't too crowded; they were occupied by a few groups of girls that were only there to ogle at the players, plus Lydia and the new girl. Claire, hardly knowing anyone in the stands, sat by herself, like any other year.

She pulled her book, We Were Liars, out of her bag, just in case the practice got too boring. There were always those days where nothing exciting would happen and she would be left with either reading or watching a bunch of nothing.

When Scott started walking over to the goal, Claire squinted her eyes. Why was he goalie? Danny was usually goalie, and if not him than the backup goalie, Oliver. And Scott totally sucked at playing goalie, so why did coach put him there? Then again, coach did a lot of unexplainable stuff.

When the whistle blew, Scott instantly gripped the sides of his helmet, as if he was in great pain. Claire looked at him, confused. What was happening to him today? First the flinching in English, and now the weird reaction to the whistle. It wasn't even that loud.

As Scott was busy grabbing his helmet, the first player already started playing, throwing the ball towards the net. Since Scott wasn't paying attention at all, the ball hit him. In the face.

In all honesty, Claire didn't know whether she should have been concerned or busting out laughing. Although she didn't know why he was acting so weird, he was her best friend. And best friends laugh at each other when they do stupid stuff.

Scott got back up, looking determined. As the next ball came flying towards him, he caught it with ease. Claire looked at him with shock. She knew he had been practicing, but not at goal. She was positive that he still sucked at that.

"Yeah!" she heard Stiles cheer.

Scott kept catching ball after ball effortlessly, looking as if he was having no trouble at all. As if it was a walk through the park. He looked so relaxed on the field, like his reactions were as easy as breathing.

Jackson, who was the team captain, made his way up to the front of the line. Claire sat on the edge of her seat, watching anxiously. She was hoping that Scott's new found talent wouldn't fail him. Jackson pulled back and threw, throwing a perfect shot.

And Scott caught the ball.

"Holy shit," Claire breathed out, a smile creeping it's way onto her face. Scott caught the ball. Scott freaking caught the ball!

"That's my friend!" she heard Stiles yell from the player's bench. Everyone else in the crowds cheered for him, too.

Later that day, Scott and Stiles once again managed to drag Claire out into the preserve. Apparently when Scott found the body he had dropped his inhaler, and now the three of them were out looking for it.

"I-I don't know what it was," Scott said. He was talking about his lacrosse playing earlier in the day. "It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball. And that's not the only weird thing. I- I can hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear. Smell things. "

"Smell thing?" Claire asked, her nose crinkled. "Like what?"

"Like... The mint mojito gum in your pocket," he responded.

"What? I don't have any-" she cut herself off and pulled an old piece of gum out of her cardigan pocket.

"Hmm," Stiles hummed, taking the gum from her. "So this all started with that bite?" he asked before ripping off the gum wrapped and popping into his mouth. Instantly his face scrunched up in disgust and he spat it out.

"Ew, Stiles, that's gross," Claire cringed. "I have no idea how old that gum was."

"Well that would've been nice to know before I put it in my mouth," he huffed.

"What if I'm infected from the bite?" Scott asked, steering the conversation back on course. "Like, my body is flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?"

"You know what? I actually think I've heard of this," Stiles stated. "It's a specific kind of infection."

"Are you serious?" Scott asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, I think it's called lycanthropy."

Claire rolled her eyes, a smirk on her lips. It was a pretty stupid joke, but she knew that Scott had no idea what lycanthropy was.

"What's that?" he asked, proving her point. "Is that bad?"

"Oh, yeah, it's the worst," Claire stated, joining the joke. "But only once a month."

That just confused Scott. "Once a month?"

"Mm-hmm," Stiles nodded. "On the night of a full moon." He howled teasingly.

Scott was no longer worried. He scowled a bit before pushing his best friend. Stiles just laughed. "Hey, you're the one who heard a wolf howling."

"There could be something seriously wrong with me," he argued.

"We know!" Claire exclaimed. "You're a werewolf! Grr." She laughed a bit. "Okay, obviously we're just kidding."

" But if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's 'cause Friday's a full moon," Stiles laughed.

Scott suddenly stopped walking and looked around. Claire thought that he was mad about the joke until he announced, "I could have sworn this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running. I dropped my inhaler somewhere around here."

"If this is it, then where's the body?" Claire asked. "Not that I'm complaining, but shouldn't it be here?"

"Maybe the killer moved the body," Stiles suggested.

"If he did," Scott stated, "I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are, like, eighty bucks or something."

The three of the crouched down, searching for the inhaler in the leaves. Looking up, Claire saw a guys, probably in his twenties, dressed in all black and leather staring at them. She stood up instantly, slapping Scott and Stiles to alert them.

"What are you doing here? Huh?" the guy asked. "This is private property."

"Sorry, man," Stiles told him, putting his hands up defensively. "We didn't know."

"Yeah, we were just looking for something," Scott explained. "But- Uh, forget it."

Staring at Scott, the guy pulled something out of his jacket pocket and threw it at him. Effortlessly, his hand shot up and grabbed it. Claire looked over at it and saw that it was his missing inhaler. When she looked back up at the guy, he was gone.

"Okay..." Scott trailed off. "Well, let's go. I gotta get to work."

As the started walking away, Stiles slapped the two on the arms. "Guys, do you know who that dude was?"

"Are we supposed to?" Claire asked.

"Derek Hale," he responded. "You remember, right? He's only a few years older than us."

"Remember what?" Scott asked.

"Wow, do either of you ever pay attention to anything?" Stiles huffed. "His family. They all burned to death in a fire, like, ten years ago," he explained.

Claire frowned. Burning to death. What an awful way to go.

"I wonder what he's doing back," Scott stated.

"Let's just go," she told them.

Scott was sitting in the operating room of the animal clinic with nothing really left to do. He had just finished attempting to feed the cats, so now he could just sit and chill.

He was about to get up when his phone rang. When he saw that it was Stiles he answered it. "What's up?"

"So, it looks like you'll probably be first line," he stated, the sound of a rock band blaring in the background, "considering you've got a bunch of skills all of a sudden."

Scott smiled. "I sure hope so. But what if I'm just really good at goal?"

"Then you'll team up with Danny and the two of you will be the best goalies in the state," he responded simply. "But that's not the point."

"Then what is the point?"

"What are you going to do about Claire?" Stiles asked. "Are you going to tell her?"

Shortly after the question was asked, headlights shined through the windows. Scott got up and looked out of one, only to see new girl Allison Argent get out of her car, looking frazzled.

He smiled to himself. "No, I don't think I'm gonna tell her about it."


	4. 2

2- Unreasonable Explanations

The rest of the week went by in a blur for Claire. The only things she could remember were random things from her classes and Scott's continuous talk about his date to the party on Friday. Nothing really interesting happened to her until Friday itself, when Lydia Martin decided to have a conversation with Claire in the morning.

Claire was at her locker, putting away the books that she didn't need in the morning. When she shut the door, she jumped, startled to see the queen bee standing there in front of her.

"Cute necklace," Lydia commented, twirling her own in her fingers.

"Uh, thanks," Claire responded, not knowing why she was talking to her, let alone complimenting her fashion choices.

"So," she started, linking arms with Claire, which only confused her more. Why was she suddenly acting like her best friend? They had never talked in the ten years they had known each other before this. Like, ever. In fact, she was pretty positive that Lydia didn't even know that she existed. "You're friends with Scott and the other one, right?"

Was that what the conversation was for? To talk about Scott because he's going to a party with Allison? Is she just there to interrogate Claire to make sure he would make a good boyfriend?

"Yeah," she nodded. "Best friends."

"And you're not dating either of them, are you?" she asked, which made her even more confused. Why did Lydia Martin care about her dating life? "I mean, I know you're not dating Scott, since he's going to the party with Allison, but are you dating the other one?"

"Who, Stiles?" Claire made a face. "Uh, no, we're not dating. We're just friends. I don't have a boyfriend."

Lydia smiled widely at her, like that was the right thing to say. "Are you going to the party?"

Okay, this conversation was starting to feel more like an interrogation to Claire, and not for the things she would've expected. Like a conversation with Lydia was something to be expected, she thought to herself.

"Oh, uh, I didn't think that I had an invite," she told her with a shrug.

"Well, now you do," Lydia told her. "So you'll be there, right?" The way she said it made Claire feel like not going wasn't an option.

"Yeah, I guess," she nodded.

Lydia smiled wider. "That's great." The warning bell rang, signalling for students to get to class. "I'll see you around Claire," she said as she walked away.

Claire just stood there, watching as she walked to class, a bit stunned. Lydia knew her name, too?

What just happened?

Stiles came up to Claire after school that day, looking very concerned.

"What's wrong?" she asked him. She raised an eyebrow. "Did Lydia get a new boyfriend?"

"What? No," he responded, shaking his head. "I was listening to one of my dad's calls-"

Claire cut him off with a groan. "Please don't tell me we're gonna go out to do something stupid that will get us in trouble again. The first time was enough."

Stiles sighed heavily. "No, just let me finish. Jeez. Anyways, the fiber analysis came back from the lab in L.A. The body they found? It had hairs on it." He paused for dramatic emphasis. "Wolf hairs."

"Wolf hairs?" she questioned, eyebrows raised.

He nodded. "Wolf hairs."

"How is that possible?" she asked, shaking her head. "There are no wolves in California."

"I know," Stiles nodded enthusiastically, like she had said the right thing. "I was thinking about that too. And then I thought, what if those werewolf jokes from the other day weren't actually jokes?"

Claire raised an eyebrow at him. "What? You think that Scott, our best friend, is a werewolf?"

"I know it sounds kinda crazy, but I did a bunch of research on it and it doesn't seem too far fetched. At least, with the research it doesn't. Just come to my house after school and I'll explain everything, okay?"

"Sure," she shrugged. "I've got nothing better to do with my life than to listen to you ramble about nothing."

"Okay, I don't know if you insulted me or yourself just then," Stiles told her with a frown.

Claire shrugged again. "I think it was a bit of both." The two started walking to the lacrosse field for first elimination when she suddenly remembered something, snapping her fingers. "Hey, I need a favor from you. Well, actually, I'd kinda be the one doing you a favor, but I still need you."

"For what?"

"Okay, so the weirdest thing happened to me this morning," she started to explain. "Lydia started to talk for me, I don't know why, and then she invited me to her party tonight. I need you to come with me so I don't look like a total loner, since Scott will probably be too focused on Allison to talk to me."

"Hold on," Stiles stopped, stunned. "Lydia talked to you? As in Lydia Martin? As in the Lydia Martin that I've been in love with since third grade? That Lydia?"

Claire nodded. "Yup, that Lydia."

"And she invited you to her party tonight?"

"Uh-huh."

"And you want me to come with you?" Stiles still looked completely stunned.

"Yeah. And while you're there, you could work your Stilinski magic or whatever you call it to make her suddenly fall in love with you," Claire told him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "So, you in?"

"Hell yeah I am!"

After school, Claire was sitting on Stiles's bed, waiting for Scott to show up. She watched Stiles twitched around at his desk, shuffling through papers that meant absolutely nothing to her. He looked like either he had a few energy drinks or he had too much Adderall. Knowing Stiles, it was probably the latter.

"Are you going to explain your research to me yet?" Claire asked, her tone not totally lacking bitterness. She couldn't help it. She was bored out of her mind, and Stiles was being a pretty shitty host.

"I told you, not until Scott gets here. I don't want to explain myself twice."

"You see, that's just laziness on your part."

"You could read these papers yourself, you know," Stiles told her, an eyebrow raised.

"That's laziness on my part," Claire told him, a stupid smile on her face.

He frowned. "Was that your attempt at a joke? Because it kinda sucked. Like, a lot."

She rolled her eyes. "Said the guy who's humor is ninety percent old movie references, and fifty percent of those references are Star Wars related."

"You can't blame me for enjoying good movies," he shook his head at her. "Now shut up and be bored until Scott gets here."

Claire groaned loudly, throwing herself into a laying position on Stiles's bed. Luckily, she didn't have to wait to the sound of shuffling papers for too long, because soon enough Scott walked through the bedroom door.

"Get in," Stiles told him, even though he already was. Jeez, Scott had been there for about five seconds and Stiles already sounded like he was hyped on Adderall. "You guys' gotta see this. I've been up all night reading- websites books. All this information." Wow, he was sounding pretty crazy, and he hadn't even got to the "werewolf" part yet.

"How much Adderall have you had today?" Scott asked, a bit of a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"My thoughts exactly," Claire nodded, agreeing.

"A lot," Stiles frowned. "But that doesn't matter," he said with large hand gestures. "Okay, just listen."

"Oh, is this about the body?" Scott questioned. "Did they find out who did it?"

"No, not yet. They're still questioning people. Even Derek."

"Derek?" Claire asked, confused. Why would they question him? He just got back after being away for years. Why would he come back to town just to kill someone?

"Oh, that guy from the woods the other day," Scott nodded, remembering.

"Yeah!" he agreed, a bit too enthusiastically. "Yes. But that's not it, okay?"

"Then what?"

"Remember the joke from the other day?" Stiles asked. Scott nodded. "Not a joke anymore, dude. The wolf, the bite in the woods. I started doing all this reading." He shuffled through his large stack of papers. "Do you even know why a wolf howls?"

"Should I?" Scott shrugged.

"It's a signal, okay?" Stiles started explaining. "When a wolf is alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby. Maybe even a whole pack of them."

"A whole pack of wolves?" he asked, eyes widening a bit.

"No, werewolves."

And here we go, Claire thought bitterly. This is not going to end well. She knew better than to open her mouth and possibly make it worse, so she just decided to let Stiles fight this loosing battle.

"Wha- Are you seriously wasting my time with this?" Scott questioned, infuriated. "You know I'm picking Allison up in an hour," he said, starting to get up to leave.

"I saw you on the field today, Scott." Yeah, so did Claire. He did a freaking flip over some players to make a shot. She knew for a fact that he did not have that kind of agility, or aim. In fact, in the nearly twelve years that she had known him, he could just barely do a somersault, let alone a flip. "What you did wasn't just amazing, all right? It was impossible."

"Yeah, so I made a good shot," he shrugged, like flipping over players was an average thing for him. Wow, he really was ignorant.

"No," Stiles shook his head, "you made an incredible shot, I mean- The way you moved, your speed, your reflexes. People can't just suddenly do that overnight, you know. And there's the vision and the senses, and don't even think I don't notice that you don't need your inhaler anymore." Claire noticed all of those things, too. How could she not? One day, Scott's the asthmatic, nonathletic goofball she'd known since she was four, and suddenly he's super fast, agile, and amazing at lacrosse. That sort of stuff doesn't happen without lots of practicing.

He turned to Claire. "Do you believe any of this?"

She shrugged. "I mean, it's better than assuming that your on some sort of drugs." Scott slightly glared at her. "Which you really shouldn't be, by the way. Steroids shrivel up your man parts."

"Okay, I really can't think about this right now," Scott said, looking very annoyed. Perhaps Claire's comment wasn't the most appropriate thing to say at the moment. "We can talk tomorrow."

"What?" Stiles exclaimed, looking way too worried. "No! The full moon's tonight! Don't you get it?"

"What are you trying to do?" Scott exploded, looking pissed. Claire was pretty sure it was the first time she had seen him that mad in her whole life. "I just made first line. I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?"

"I'm trying to help," he told him. "You're cursed, Scott. And it's not just the moon will cause you to physically change. It also happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak."

"Bloodlust?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah," Stiles nodded, "your urge to kill."

"I'm already feeling an urge to kill, Stiles," Scott told him, a slight glare on his face.

"Whoa whoa whoa," Claire interjected, her hands raised as she walked in between the two boys. "Let's, uh, let's just take a step back, okay?" She turned to Scott. "Because you're getting this look-" she gestured vaguely to her face- "that is kinda scary."

Stiles just barreled on, ignoring her. "It says here that the change can be caused by anything that angers you or raises your pulse. All right? I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does." Okay, that was a lie, There was one other person. But considering she was there in the room with them, he opted to not say that to make things less awkward and so that Scott wouldn't be as mad. "You gotta cancel this date." Without another word, he got up and walked to Scott's backpack, going zipping open a pocket.

"What are you doing?" Scott asked, his voice not completely lacking anger, but lacking more than there was a few moments ago.

"I'm cancelling your date," Stiles responded simply.

Okay, this will definitely not go well, Claire thought. She could already see Stiles's tombstone.

"What!" Scott yelled out in pure anger, making Claire's prediction one step closer towards coming true. "No! Give it to me!"

Suddenly, blinded with rage, Scott grabbed Stiles and held him up against the wall, his fist closed as if he was going to punch him. Claire watched, feeling sick to her stomach. She had absolutely no idea what to do. She wanted to stop him, to say something that could prevent Stiles from getting the crap beaten out of him, but she didn't know what to say. And she also didn't really want to die as a sixteen year old virgin.

As if he could hear the mental pleas Claire was sending his way, Scott dropped Stiles on the ground. Obviously his anger had not left him, because once his hands were free, he turned and threw the desk chair. He stood there, huffing, before he either calmed down or saw what he had done. Scott looked up and Stiles and Claire, both looking at him with fairly scared expressions. "I'm sorry," he breathed out before heading to the door. "I-I gotta go get ready for the party." He stopped at the door, turning towards his friends once again. "I'm sorry," he repeated before leaving the door and the house.

Stiles sighed, going over to pick up his chair. When it was standing upright again, he froze, his face filled with worry.

Claire watched him out of curiosity and concern. "Stiles?" she called.

Wordlessly, he turned the chair around so that she could see it. She gaped, eyes wide and mouth open, at the sight in front of her.

In the chair were three animal-like scratches that definitely were not there a moment ago.

Scott McCall was a werewolf. A freaking werewolf.

Claire sighed, looking up at Stiles. "Well, I think it's time to get ready for that party."


	5. 3

3- Party People

A high school party was literally the last place Claire ever expected herself to be. But after pointlessly picking out the perfect outfit for a party there she was, standing next to Stiles as they watched a bunch of illegally drunken teenagers grind to ear bursting pop music that wasn't even that good in her opinion. There were others who looked like how she felt, not dancing or drinking and just watching from the sidelines or talking to someone. Once Claire fully saw the chaos that was a teen party, she was instantly glad she had invited Stiles to come with her. She wouldn't feel like such an outsider with her best friend by her side. Or, at least she had, until-

"Hey, I'm gonna start looking for Scott," Stiles announced, yelling slightly due to the loud music. "You know, keep an eye on him in case he wolfs out in the middle of a party."

Claire raised an eyebrow. "You mean you're gonna start looking for Lydia?" she asked, knowing his true intentions.

He shrugged. "Potato, Po-ta-to," he told her before walking away, leaving her by herself.

She sighed silently. "Wow, what a great idea it was to make you my plus one, Stiles," she spoke to herself silently and sarcastically. "You make such a good social buffer for me. I am so lucky to call you my best friend."

Claire sighed once more before slowly making her way inside. Now that Stiles was "looking out for Scott," she knew no one at the party who would talk to her, since Scott was not only nowhere to be found, but he had a date that he would be focusing on more than her. Not that Claire was bitter about that, she was just upset that she was stuck at the party.

She was almost to the door when a voice spoke out, stopping her in her tracks.

"Hey, Claire!" Jackson Whittemore called. Claire froze, a bit confused as she turned around to face him. Lydia and Jackson, who were practically the rulers of their school, were both talking to her in one day?

"Uh, hi Jackson," she responded, still super confused.

"I'm so glad you came!" he partially shouted over the music, even though they were fairly close and Claire could hear him just fine. She could tell he had a few drinks, considering his S's were slightly slurred and he was a bit wobbly. And the fact that he was talking to her in the first place. And since there were two cups in his hands.

Claire smiled at him. "Thanks," she spoke to him normally. "It's a pretty cool party," she complimented, even though she had only been there for a few minutes, if that.

Jackson's smile widened a bit, and Claire couldn't help but think that he was really attractive. No wonder he was super popular. Unexpectedly, he extended his hand to her, offering her a cup. "I thought you looked thirsty."

"Is that your superpower?" Claire asked, raising an eyebrow. "You can sense dehydration?"

Jackson shrugged, a smile still on his face. "It's one of them."

"Ah," she nodded, taking the cup that was most likely filled with alcohol from him. Wait a second. Did she just flirt with Jackson Whittemore? Did that qualify as flirting? "Thanks," she smiled taking a sip, confirming that it was beer, the drink burning her throat as she swallowed.

While on the outside Claire looked cool and collected, on the inside she was repeatedly screaming one thing over and over:

Why is he talking to me?

Claire was surprised to admit that her first high school party was really fun. Even more surprisingly, she spent the whole time there with Jackson, talking and laughing and drinking. Claire knew that he was known for having a bad attitude and being a bit of a douche (she's heard a bunch of stories from Scott and Stiles), but he didn't seem like a bad guy to her.

So when Stiles ran up to the two of them, out of breath and and rambling about nothing she could understand, Claire was kind of mad at him. Not only did he ditch her once they got there, but now he was interrupting a perfectly good conversation.

"Claire... Scott," Stiles started, panting.

"What?" Claire asked, not understanding what he meant.

"Scott!" was his only response, frantically waving his arms, like that would help her understand what he meant.

"You're not making any sense," she told him, shaking her head.

Instead of explaining himself, Stiles grabbed her arm and started dragging her away.

"What are you doing?" Claire asked, turning her head around to shoot an apologetic look to Jackson, who looked confused and slightly pissed.

"Scott!" Stiles explained, still not telling her what was happening or explaining himself in any way as he continued to drag her through the party.

"Yes, I know," she told him, very annoyed with his behavior. "What about Scott?"

"Wha- Do you not remember our conversation earlier today?" Stiles asked as the two approached the jeep, a bit annoyed himself. "Full moon? All that?"

Claire frowned, racking her brain as to what he could be talking about. When she remembered the whole werewolf ordeal and anger fit back at Stiles's house, her eyes widened. "Oh. Scott."

"Yes Scott!" he responded with wide hand gestures, almost shouting. "He left. We've got to follow him." With that, he practically pushed Claire in the direction of the passenger side, the two quickly getting into Roscoe and driving off.

As they drove, the two teenagers sat quietly, Claire's thoughts solely on Scott. She had completely forgot to keep an eye on him back at the party, and she scolded herself for it. Claire had somehow let herself get distracted, by Jackson Whittemore of all people, and because of that she put her friends and herself in danger. She was really hoping that Scott went home like Stiles assumed.

Suddenly, Stiles spoke up. "Why were you hanging out with Jackson?"

"Hm?" Claire questioned, turning to face him. "Oh, we were just talking."

"Yeah, I know that," he nodded. "But why?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Because he started talking to me and I'm not a rude person?"

"Whatever," he dismissed. "I don't like you talking to him. He's a major dick."

"He doesn't seem that bad," Claire argued.

"Really?" Stiles questioned, eyes wide. "Because I can name about a million reasons why he sucks. One," he numbered, "he's a self centered rich boy. Two, he dated Lydia freshmen year-"

"Okay, why is that a reason?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Because I love her," he responded shortly. Claire rolled her eyes at his childish behavior. Stiles groaned loudly. "Ugh, why did he have to date her? Now all of her ex's are super attractive. How am I supposed to compete with them?"

"That reminds me, did you find Lydia at the party?" she asked, turning the conversation around.

"Yeah, but she was too busy making out with Wes Baylor from the lacrosse team."

Claire furrowed her eyebrows. "So you're complaining about competing with her ex's but not the guy she was making out with?"

"Hey, he could just be a one time thing," he poorly defended.

"Whatever," she responded, rolling her eyes. Stiles's logic never made any sense to her. "Let's just get to Scott fast, okay?"

And with that, the jeep fell back into silence.

After pulling up to a stop in front of Scott's house, his two best friends flung themselves out of the jeep as fast as they could and rushed inside. They made a bee-line for Scott's room, hoping their friend was okay. Stiles was quick to grab the door handle, only to discover that it was lock. Going to plan two, he started banging on the door, hoping that he was there.

Scott cracked open the door. "Go away," he breathed out.

"Scott, it's us," Claire responded. "Just let us in. We can help you."

"No!" he refused. "Listen, you guys have to find Allison."

"She's fine, all right?" Stiles told him. "I saw her get a ride home from the party. She's totally okay."

"No, I think I know who it is," Scott insisted, still not letting the two of them into his room.

"Just let us in," Claire practically begged, wanting to help her best friend. "We can try and help-"

"It's Derek," he cut her off. "Derek Hale. He's the werewolf, the one that bit 's the one that killed the girl in the woods."

Stiles looked shell shocked, eyes bugging out and mouth wide open. Claire didn't understand why he responded that way. Sure, she wasn't really expecting him to be a werewolf either, but it wasn't that much of a revelation to her. Or at least she didn't until-

"Scott, Derek's the one who drove Allison home from the party," Stiles informed.

Claire's head snapped from the door to Stiles rapidly, a horrified expression on her face. What did that mean? Was Derek targeting Allison?

Without warning, Scott slammed the door shut, causing Claire to jump at the sudden noise. She banged her fist against the door, a frown etched on her face. "Scott!" she called. "Scott!"

When there was no response from the other side of the door, Claire had a feeling that Scott wasn't in his room anymore."

Stiles and Claire were once again in his jeep, now speeding down the street to Allison's house. They were desperately hoping that nothing had happened to her, that Derek wasn't planning to do anything to her. Then again, he did kill that girl in the woods.

As they neared her house, Claire frowned, a thought suddenly coming to her. "Stiles?"

"Hm?"

"How exactly do you know where Allison lives?" she questioned.

He shrugged. "One can never be too careful when it comes to their best friend's love life."

"Did you look her up in the police system?"

"At least now I know that she's clean," Stiles responded.

Claire heavily rolled her eyes at him. "You are absolutely ridiculous."

"Thank you."

Shortly after their conversation, the jeep screeched to a stop in front of the Argent home, the two teenagers once again barreling out of the car and towards the house. Stiles rang the doorbell only once, to make sure he didn't look like a total lunatic in front of the new residents of Beacon Hills.

Mrs. Argent, a fairly tall woman with short and red hair, opened the door.

"Hi there, Mrs. Argent," Stiles smiled. "Um- You have no idea who we am. We're friends of your daughter's. Uh- Look, this is gonna sound kind of crazy, um- really crazy, actually. You know what? Crazy doesn't even describe-"

"Allison!" Mrs. Argent called, interrupting Stiles's pointless rambling. "It's for you."

Allison Argent appeared at the top of the steps, still wearing her outfit for the party. She cocked her head to the side, not sure why the two were there for her.

Stiles and Claire looked at each other and relief. Allison wasn't brutally murdered by a werewolf.

Now they just need to find out where Scott ran off to.

As Claire sat in the passenger seat of Stiles's jeep, eyes scanning the streets for a hopefully unscathed Scott as they drove by, she couldn't tell if she was worried or just tired. It was nearly sunrise and she and Stiles hand't gotten a wink of sleep. Well, Claire slept for about five seconds before he caught her and shook her awake. After that, they decided to blare the music so they wouldn't be able to drift off, especially Stiles, considering he was driving.

But no matter how tired she was, Claire refused to let herself fall asleep after she started to drift away. She still felt quite guilty that she spent the entire duration of the party talking instead of looking out for Scott. What kind of best friend just forgets about their best friend's problems?

Claire quickly turned down the music. "Do you think we messed up tonight?" she asked before Stiles could question her as to why she turned down the main thing keeping the two of them awake.

Stiles frowned at her question. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just that we totally forgot about Scott back at the party," she explained. "We were supposed to be there for him and make sure he was safe, but instead all my attention was on Jackson and you were stalking Lydia-"

"Hey, I was not stalking Lydia," he interrupted. "I was just admiring from afar."

"What's the difference?" Claire asked, throwing her hands up.

"Stalking's creepy, and very illegal. And I was not being creepy or illegal."

"Hm," she hummed. "Anyways, we got distracted at the party and we didn't look out for Scott. Now he could be in trouble, or hurt, or even dead."

After that, Stiles got quiet. A bit too quiet for Stiles. Claire could tell that he was thinking things over, that he was trying to come up with a response, but she still thought it was weird. His mouth usually never stopped moving.

"Yeah, we messed up," he responded after his moment. "But people mess up all the time. So what if we got distracted by attractive people? We're only human. And I'm sure Scott's fine," Stiles reassured. "I'm more worried that he attacked someone else and killed them instead of him being dead."

Claire paled. "That's not very comforting, Stiles."

"Right, sorry."

As she turned back to look out her window, Claire saw a figure walking on the side of the road. "Hey, slow down," she told Stiles, hoping that figure was Scott. Quickly shooting her a questioning look, he started to slow the jeep down.

"What it is?" he asked.

"Is that Scott?"

As they neared the figure, Claire noticed certain things about it that made it easy to identify him as Scott. The floppy brown hair, the tan skin tone. But there was something about him that she had never seen before.

He was shirtless.

In all honestly, Claire had to admit that he looked good without a shirt. He was fairly toned, a six pack starting to form. She had always thought that she was flat-stomached.

Stiles pulled up to a stop next to Scott. "Get in the back," he told Claire.

She turned to him, a frown etched on her face. "What? Why can't Scott get in the back?"

"I'm sorry, did you just run out on your first date with the super hot new girl at a Lydia Martin party because you wolfed out? No? Then get in the back."

Sighing heavily, Claire unbuckled and flopped her way to the backseat of the jeep, Scott opening the passenger seat door shortly after. He said nothing, just silently sulked as Stiles started driving into town.

After a fairly long silence, Scott finally spoke up. "Do you know what actually worries me the most?"

Stiles groaned. "If you say Allison right now, I will actually punch you in the face."

"She probably hates me right now," he continued, whining.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're fine, Scott. Just have a good excuse and you're good to go. Say you had an attack or something."

"An attack of what?" Scott asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"I don't know, asthma, panic, anxiety, diarrhea. Something."

"Why would I tell her I had diarrhea?"

"It's just an example," Claire defended.

"Or," Stiles interrupted, "you could just tell her the truth and revel in the awesomeness of the fact that you're a freaking werewolf." Instead of verbally responding, Scott rolled his head and shot Stiles an angry look. "Okay, bad idea. Hey, we'll get through this. Come on, if I have to, I'll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once. I could do it."

Claire laughed, Scott trying to look angry before breaking and chuckling as well. He was glad to have such good friends to support him through the weirdness of everything.

Scott McCall had absolutely no idea where he would be if he didn't have Claire Jameson and Stiles Stilinski in his life. He'd probably be dead in a hole somewhere.


	6. 4

4- Lacrosse Can Be Lethal

Claire sat on the bleachers of the lacrosse field, a few days after the party on the full moon fiasco, boredly watching the team running up and down the field with headphones in. If she was totally honest, lacrosse was not her sport, but since almost the whole school practically worshiped the game and Claire's two best friends were on the team, she was stuck watching every game and most practices. Maybe that was why she wasn't a big fan.

She usually sat by herself on the bench, reading, doing homework, listening to music, whatever that would divert her attention from only watching lacrosse. So you could image Claire's surprise when none other than Lydia Martin sat down in the spot next to her. Frowning a bit, she paused her music and ripped the buds out of her ears.

"Uh... hi," Claire spoke, not entirely sure what to say.

Lydia, instead of responding with a 'hi' or 'hello' or any other greet that most people would find normal and acceptable, she just turned towards the girl and smirked ever so slightly. "So, I saw that you were at my party on Friday."

"Right, yeah, I was," Claire nodded in agreement. "Because you know... you invited me and everything."

Lydia let out a short laugh (although Claire wasn't really trying to be funny, she just didn't know what else to say) before continuing. "How did you like it?"

"It was really fun, thanks for inviting me," she smiled, hoping that that didn't sound pathetic or fake or anything. "And I heard you were with Wes? Is that a thing?" Claire hoped she sounded nice instead of creepy or something.

The smirk that seemed to be permanently etched onto Lydia's face seemed to grow. "Most definitely," she replied coyly, staring at the boy on the lacrosse field. To Claire, it seemed that Lydia had a certain agenda to everything she did. "But my life love life doesn't matter at the moment. I saw you with Jackson at the party."

Unknown to the girls, Scott's super werewolf hearing picked up on their conversation. He quickly looked at the two on the bleachers. Claire was with Jackson at the party? What did that mean? He shook his head snapping back to the game. He like Allison. He went to the party with Allison, not Claire.

So why did it bug him so much?

Claire frowned. "What?"

Lydia rolled her eyes teasingly. "I mean I saw you at the party with Jackson, as in Jackson Whittemore. You know, my best friend, captain of the lacrosse team, super-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know who he is," she interrupted.

"What happened between the two of you at the party?"

Claire shrugged, ignoring Coach's yelling. "I mean, we talked, but that was it." Lydia seemed dissatisfied with her answer, but what else was she supposed to tell her? Did she want to hear that they got into a huge fight and can't stand each other anymore, or they hooked up, or...?

"That's all that happened?" she asked.

"Um... yeah," Claire nodded. "I mean, he was really nice and funny and everything, but... that's all. We talked."

Lydia frowned, like there was something wrong with that picture. "Does this have something to do with your friend Scott?"

Scott's ears perked up at the sound of his name, getting ready to face off with Jackson for the second time. Why did Lydia care about Claire and Jackson, and why did she think them talking and nothing more had something to do with him?

Was Lydia trying to hook Jackson up with Claire or something?

"What?" she frowned. "No- What? What's wrong with talking?"

But Lydia never got a chance to respond. Before she could open her mouth, Jackson's cry of pain reached their ears. Claire, quickly turning to see what was happening, saw both Jackson and Scott lying on the ground, Jackson looking like he was in immense pain. Lydia shot to her feet, Claire following shortly after. Lydia grabbed her wrist, half leading half dragging the girl down the the field.

By the time the two girls reached Jackson, the whole team had huddled around him. Looking around, Claire saw that both Scott and Stiles were no where to be seen.

"Help him up, help him up!" Finstock shouted. Two players tried to get him up as delicately as possible, but Jackson still cried out in pain. "There you go," Coach spoke, patting the shoulder that wasn't hurt. "You think you can walk it off?"

"Coach, that was a pretty bad fall," one player spoke.

"Yeah," Danny, Jackson's other best friend, agreed. "He should probably go to the hospital to get his shoulder checked out. It could be dislocated or something."

Finstock sighed heavily. "Alright Whittemore, go to the hospital. But if it's anything more than a dislocation I'll... I'll hurt you."

Jackson frowned. "Uh, that's not really something I can control, Coach."

"Whatever, just get out of my sight!"

And with that, the fate of Jackson's lacrosse season rested in a doctor's visit.

"Wait, what happened?"

Scott and Claire were talking on Skype later in the day. He was telling her about everything that occurred after school when he couldn't talk to her, including the discovery that it was Allison's father that shot at her with a crossbow and attacking Stiles in the locker room.

"That's a lot of information to take in, dude," Claire continued.

"I know," Scott sighed.

"Like, our lives just got way more complicated."

"I know," he groaned.

"But you're not gonna give up on the whole Allison thing, right?" Claire questioned. "Just because her family might be a bunch of werewolf killers."

Scott sighed, a blush unnoticeable to the camera rushing to his cheeks. He didn't want to talk about his current crush to the girl who he still kinda has a crush on. "No. I mean, I really like her, and she might not know anything about werewolves."

Claire nodded, a faint smile on her face. Scott's crush was just too adorable. "What about the whole 'wolfing out during lacrosse' thing?" she asked. "Was it because Finstock's yelling made you mad?"

"Yeah," he agreed, choosing to not mention overhearing her conversation with Lydia.

"Then what are we going to do about it?" Claire asked. "Lacrosse is pretty aggressive. You can't wolf out any time someone knocks you over."

After she asked, Scott seemed to deflate. "I have no idea," he groaned. "I mean, I can't be first line if I'm gonna wolf out and attack someone on the field, but I kinda have to."

"Yeah, especially with what happened to Jackson," she nodded. That question just upset Scott even more, guilt rushing over him. Claire, noticing this, cringed, realizing that it wasn't the right thing to say at the moment. "Oh, sorry. I mean, especially with what... didn't happen... to Jackson."

Scott smirked, rolling his eyes a bit. "Wow, I fell way better now. Thanks for your comforting words."

"Any day, Scotty boy," she smiled brightly.

Before either of them could continue the conversation, their Skype rang, a picture of Stiles covering their screens as he called them. Scott, hosting the call, answered.

Stiles turned around in his chair, shooting a toy gun at the camera. "Wow, what an entrance," Claire spoke sarcastically.

"Don't be rude, Jameson," Stiles shot back, a small grin on his face.

"So, what did you find out?" Scott asked.

"Well, it's bad," Stiles sighed. "Jackson's got a separated shoulder."

The werewolf groaned, guilt once again washing over him. "Because of me?"

"Because he's a tool," Stiles responded.

Claire rolled her eyes at their response. She had no idea why Stiles hated Jackson so much. She didn't see what was so bad about him.

"Is he going to play?" Scott asked, Stiles's response not totally reassuring.

"They don't know yet. Now they're just counting on you for Saturday."

"But I can't play!" he exclaimed.

"Well, I guess this is more of a 'would you rather' situation," Claire said. "Would you rather let the team down or wolf out and let everyone know that you're a werewolf, including the girl who's parents hunt werewolves, and you might possibly kill someone?" When Claire saw Scott's and Stiles's expressions, she sighed. "Sorry, not helpful."

Scott groaned. "I have no idea what to do."

Claire noticed that Stiles's attention was focused on something on the screen, his video glitching out a bit. Scott, he started typing, it looks like-

The typing stopped, his screen completely freezing. "Looks like what?" Scott mumbled under his breath.

Scott, it looks like someone's behind you.

Claire's eyes widened, looking quickly towards his screen. Sure enough, she saw a shadowy figure in the background. Scott turned around, Derek Hale lunging at him. That was the last thing she saw before Scott's computer was unplugged, the call hanging up.

Claire sat there, a bit stunned at what she had just witnessed. Derek Hale just attacked one of her best friends. Holy shit, Derek Hale just attacked her best friend.

She probably sat in stunned silence for a minute before springing into action. Claire searched her room for her phone. It seemed that she was looking for it for an eternity. How come she never paid attention to where she put her phone?

Once Claire found it, she quickly searched her contacts, calling Scott. She wanted to make sure he was okay. She needed to know if he was okay.

"Damn it," she muttered, the call going to voicemail. She called again. This time, he picked up after the second ring.

"Scott!" Claire breathed out in relief. "What just happened."

"Derek happened," he responded bitterly. "He threatened me. He told me to not play the game on Saturday."

"But you're okay?" she questioned, still sounding worried. "You're not hurt?"

"I'm fine," Scott reassured, trying to ignore the little bits of butterflies exploding in his stomach. She really cared about him. "I'm more freaked out than anything."

Claire let out a breath of relief. "Good. That's good. Now what do we do?"

Scott sighed. "I've got no idea."

The next day at school, as Scott was trying to tell Finstock that he couldn't play on Saturday, Claire was at her locker, putting away the books she didn't need. When she felt someone appear next to her, she was kind of surprised to discover that it was Jackson. "Hey," she smiled at him. "How's your shoulder?" she asked, noticing that his arm was in a sling.

"Yeah, it hurts," he responded with a small cringe. "But it's really nothing. I have the sling just so that it won't get worse." He paused, thinking about his next words. "Uh, I came over here to ask you what happened at the party."

"Oh, yeah, you mean the whole Stiles running over and dragging me away thing?" she asked with a slight laugh.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Look, was it something I said? Is that why he came over?"

"What?" Claire frowned. "No, it was Scott. He was freaked out over his date with Allison and ditched," she lied easily. "We were just going to see if he's okay."

"Well, that's pretty cool of you," he smiled. And Claire smiled brightly back.

Down the hall, Stiles was watching the two talk, his eyes squinted. He didn't trust Jackson and Claire talking. Well, okay, he trusted Claire, but not Jackson. He was definitely up to something.

"Stiles, what-" Scott started to ask him before he was pulled down, looking down the hallway with him.

"Shh," Stiles shushed. "Do you see that?"

As he spoke, Claire let out a laugh, a smile plastered onto her face. Scott frowned. "Is Claire talking to Jackson?"

"Yup," Stiles responded bitterly. "And they were talking back at the party."

Scott frowned, opting to not tell Stiles that he already knew that. Stiles would just blow up about how he still had a crush on her or whatever, and that was something he didn't want to deal with at the moment.

"I swear, he's doing this to torture us," Stiles stated. "Just because you've gotten better at lacrosse and you've hurt his shoulder." He shook his head. "He is evil."

The bell rang, and Scott and Stiles quickly went back around the corner, Scott's mind thinking about why the two of them keep talking.

After school that day, Stiles picked Claire up to go to Scott's house. Apparently he "found something", Which was annoyingly vague in Claire's opinion.

As soon as they pulled to a stop outside of the house, Stiles bolted from the car and into the house, while Claire took her time. Sure, she wanted to know what he found, but she wasn't that desperate.

By the time she walked into the room, Stiles was almost done with his rant, the words "I've had a lot of Adderall" reaching her ears.

"I found something at Derek Hale's," Scott stated.

"Why were you at Derek Hale's?" Claire asked.

Before he could answer, Stiles exclaimed "Whoa, that's awesome! What was it?"

"There was something buried there." Oh, so Scott decided to answer Stiles's question, but not Claire's? "I could smell blood."

Claire's eyes widened. Blood? He could smell blood?

"That's awesome!" Stiles smiled brightly, voicing the opposite of Claire's thoughts. When he saw his friends giving him strange looks, he stumbled. "Uh, I mean, that's terrible! Whose blood?"

"I don't know. But when we do, your dad nails Derek for the murder, and then you two help me figure out how to play lacrosse without changing. Because there's no way I'm not playing that game."

"Hey," Stiles pointed out the morgue as they walked into the hospital. It turns out that Stiles's plan to find out whose blood it was was for Scott to sniff the half of that girl's body to see if there was a match. And for some reason, Scott agreed to that plan.

"Uh, good luck, I guess," Claire told him before he walked off.

As Claire walked towards the chairs, sitting down and throwing her legs over on of the arms, she noticed that Stiles didn't follow her. She looked around in alarm, afraid that he followed Scott into the morgue and left her all alone in the waiting room. But instead of finding a Stiles-less room, she saw him standing by a desk. In front of Lydia.

Claire smiled to herself. Oh, this was going to be good.

"Hey, Lydia. You probably don't remember me. Um, I sit behind you in Biology." Stiles got nothing but a blank expression. "Uh, anyway, I always thought that we just had this kind of connection. Unspoken, of course. Maybe it'd be kind of cool to, uh, get to know each other a little better."

"Uh, hold on a second," Lydia spoke, taking a Bluetooth out of her ear. Claire's eyes widened as she slapped a hand over her mouth to hold in the laughs. "Yeah, I didn't hear any of that," she told him. "Was it worth repeating?"

Stiles gaped, at a loss for words. "Uh, nope. Sorry. I'll just-" he pointed over to where Claire was sitting, but noticed that Lydia already stopped paying attention to him. "You don't care."

He plopped himself into the seat next to Claire, pouting a bit. When he saw her laughing at his failure, he glared at her. "Hey, that was not funny."

"Are you kidding?" she laughed, kicking her legs from off the arm rest and turned to face him. "That was so great! That's probably the best thing that I've seen all day."

"Oh, yeah? Better than your conversation with Jackson?"

Claire's giggles slowly died down as she spoke, "What's your deal with Jackson."

"Wha- I told you, he's not a good guy. He wants to destroy Scott. He's evil!"

She rolled her eyes. "Please, don't be so dramatic."

"I'm not dramatic!" Stiles exclaimed, quite dramatically in Claire's opinion. "I'm just saying that's he's rude and you shouldn't talk to him."

"Well, he's nice to me," Claire pointed out. "What do you think about that?"

"He's... he's acting."

She raised an eyebrow. "Acting. Really?"

"Yes really," Stiles responded. "He's acting nice so that you'll start insulting me and Scott and turn into one of those popular robots who have no time for anyone except for other popular robots."

Claire frowned. "Are you trying to say that he's brainwashing me?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying!" he exclaimed. "He's brainwashing you with niceness and good looks."

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes. "You're just being bitter because Lydia just totally rejected you."

"Wha- not totally," Stiles disagreed. "I'm sure if she heard what I had to say we would be making out furiously right about now."

"Sure Stiles," Claire deadpanned, "that's totally what would've happened."

"I mean, it's a possibility."

"Not really," she shook her head. "Lydia told me today that she's totally got a thing with Wes Baylor."

Stiles groaned. "Damn it."

"Hey, there are totally other girls out there for you to obsess about."

Before Stiles had the chance to respond, probably with a spluttering "I'm not obsessed", Scott popped up in front of the two, seemingly out of nowhere. Stiles jump in his seat. "Holy god!" he exclaimed.

"Did it work?" Claire asked.

Scott nodded. "The scent was the same."

"Are you sure?" Stiles questioned as the three headed towards the exit.

"Yes," Scott stated plainly, showing that he thought the question was pointless. Which it totally was.

"So he did bury the other half of the body on his property?" Stiles continued, his tone not stopping him.

"Which means we have proof that he killed that girl," Claire nodded.

"I say we use it."

Scott frowned. "How?"

"Tell me something first," Stiles turned to him and stopped walking. "Are you doing this because you want to stop Derek, or because you want to play in the game, and he said you couldn't?"

"There were bite marks on the body, Stiles," Scott informed. "Bite marks."

Stiles nodded. "Okay, then we're going to need some shovels."

The two boys continued to walk out while Claire stared at them, eyes wide. "Uh, shovels?"


End file.
